“Solomon knew that what we were proposing to do was not just revisiting the template by which his previous records had been made,” explains Henry, who says he made it clear he intended to ditch many of the traditional accoutrements (blues guitar, big horn section). “Solomon came in to us saying, ‘This is your thing, and I’m your singer.’ Which surprised me. At one point, when we were having a difference of opinions about something, he said, ‘What do you want me to do?’ And I said, ‘I want you to sing your ass off.’ So he did. OK. He is a man who is used to being in control. He went out of his way to be whatever he thought I needed him to be.”
Henry eschews pre-production, Burke hadn’t listened to the songs, and they were working with a pickup ensemble (albeit a highly seasoned one). Miraculously, that spontaneity worked on the eleven finished tracks, giving the appearance of careful arrangement where, in fact, it was almost entirely seat-of-the-pants improvisation.
“There was a moment when we were working, I think on the song ‘Flesh And Blood’, and I thought, ‘Wow, he really trusts me,'” Henry remembers. “And then a second later I realized, no, that’s not what’s going on. Solomon really trusts Solomon. He has so much confidence in his vocal ability, he believed that no matter what I was trying to pull off — whether he could hear it or not — he believed that, through the strength of his vocal presence, he would wind up on top.”
And wind up on top he did. “After winning the Grammy, I figured, what else can happen?” says Burke. Enter Shout! Factory, a new entertainment company founded by brothers Richard and Garson Foos, and Bob Emmer, all former executives at Rhino Records. When they offered him a contract, they told him they already had a producer on board. “When they said it was Don Was,” Burke recalls, “I said, ‘I can’t afford Don Was!’ And they said, ‘It’s a gift.'”
“Like many people of my generation, I was introduced to Solomon’s music through the Rolling Stones’ covers of his songs,” writes Was via e-mail from France (where, coincidentally, he is producing a new album for the Stones). Burke’s “Cry To Me” and “Everybody Needs Somebody” appeared on early Stones albums; Burke’s influence on Mick Jagger’s vocal mannerisms is especially audible when you compare their versions of “Cry”, both of which come off as masculine yet vulnerable and are peppered toward the end with stuttered exhortations to “come on…come on…”
Was fell in love with Burke’s music as a teen and stuck with him through the lean years, when the singer jumped from label to label and the hits came less frequently. He also schooled himself in the classic Atlantic sides. “I loved the swing of ‘Cry To Me’, that kind of Arthur Alexander groove,” Was observes. “I was impressed by his cover of the Eddy Arnold hit ‘I Really Don’t Want To Know’.”
He also singles out Burke’s rendition of Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come” (the title track for one of Burke’s mid-’80s albums on Rounder) for praise: “It takes a brave man to tackle that song. I can’t think of another singer who could jump genres with such ease and grace.”
Was, who is such a big fan that he not only named his youngest son after the singer but also tapped Solomon to be the boy’s godfather, took the soul sensation down a slightly more traditional path. Although Make Do With What You Got includes a couple of custom-tailored originals (including the Dr. John title tune), Was and Burke also had roughly thirty-five demos to go through after word of the new project got out. Even the Stones got in on the act. In keeping with his beliefs, Burke selected material such as “What Good Am I?” by Bob Dylan and Hank Williams’ “Wealth Won’t Save Your Soul”. He also composed a new song (with pianist Eddie Towns) titled “After All These Years” in honor of his family, which includes 21 children plus countless grandchildren and, now, great-grandchildren.
The ten-song disc kicks off with “I Need Your Love In My Life”, a rousing number full of driving horns and female backing vocals, and Solomon bellowing “Hello!” as if to announce that he is not only in fine form, but ready to get funky again. His romp through the Jagger/Richards tune “I Got The Blues” could almost pass for one of his vintage sides with Wexler.
But there are quiet moments, too. On The Band’s jewel “It Makes No Difference”, Burke begins in a low, spoken chest voice (reminiscent of one of the best, if little-known, moments of his post-Atlantic years, the intro to his cover of “Drown In My Own Tears” from 1972’s We’re Almost Home on MGM), then soars into a glorious, ringing tenor.
“Solomon Burke may be the best singer in the world,” concludes Was. “He can take command of a classic song and make it his own. He can nail a vocal in one take. He can inspire a live band, and raise the emotional level of a studio full of people.” On Make Do With What You Got, Was surrounded the singer with an impressive cast, including Ray Parker Jr. and Memphis session great Reggie Young on guitars, and Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band drummer James Gadson.
Although Was insisted on a brief pre-production period, the mood in the studio was once again relaxed and convivial. “The sessions reminded me of a big summer barbecue on Belle Isle in Detroit!” he says. “We had so much fun. There were little kids running around, jumping up in Solomon’s lap. He couldn’t help but bring a commanding, albeit gentle and humorous, presence to the sessions. The album was recorded in four days, and there was never a tense or tentative moment.”
Solomon Burke turned 65 this year, but he shows few signs of retiring. Once he realized Don’t Give Up On Me was not a grand finale, but rather a whole new introduction, “I had to step up to the plate, and do everything I possibly could,” he declares, his voice rising in fervor. “So I put on my running shoes, and I hit the stores, and I do the TV shows, and I honor the interview requests.” In the coming months, he will perform in Japan for the first time ever; dates in Australia are also on the agenda. “It’s just going to be an incredible year, the Lord willing,” he says.
“You want talk about a praying preacher? Every time I pass a record store, I say a little prayer: ‘Dear God, please let them be restocking my CD right now. Five copies at a time is OK. Just don’t stop. Don’t give up on me.'”
ND contributing editor Kurt B. Reighley lives and writes in Seattle, Washington.
